


The Importance of Teaching by Example

by Lojuba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cohabitation, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, F/M, Families of Choice, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Tattoos, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, War, Wizard Politics, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lojuba/pseuds/Lojuba
Summary: It’s been two months since the end of the war and Harry could confidently say that he hated his life.Hated it.





	1. Fucking with the Ministry is not for the faint of heart

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this. I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> Now for the tags:
> 
> There's one scene in this where Malfoy gets rid of his dark mark. It's not too graphic, but that's what the self harm tag is for.
> 
> If you want to talk to me, you can find me on tumblr: wellthisisawkward-nervermind

Tom knew this would happen. Dumbledore, the old coot, had been against him every step of the way, so why would this be different? For years he had kept his plan to interview as the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, close to his heart. Only a few people knew. All of them were in his inner circle.   
  
He had watched Armando Dippet, that love drunken fool of a headmaster, ignore Merrythought’s very obvious decline in mental health, without doing anything for over a year. So why would Dippet take action now?

Merrythought wasn’t doing any worse than she did at the end of winter break. Tom Riddle made sure of that. He had planned his spells meticulously. They had already sustained her for at least six months now and he had needed her to last at least a year more.

It was the beginning of a new year, the Christmas holidays were just behind him, when his most important scheme was crushed, without as much as a warning.   
  
Hogwarts had been his recluse from death and despair, from loathing and being loathed. From fear and from the horrors of the war. He felt safe here. He knew he could rule here. He already did.

He was halfway through with his sixth year of Hogwarts when the news reached him. They had employed a new Defense teacher.   
  
He was supposedly very young and would start within the week, but he hadn’t been able to get any more information about him. In addition to that, his head of house had also announced that he’d be taking on an apprentice, who wanted to make his mastery in potions, which had already been bad news on its own.   
  
Slughorn was easily influenced and charmed when alone, however, in front of people he wanted to impress, the man knew better. The old withering fool was a lot of things, but he wasn’t one to miss an opportunity to boast. So, asking him about his newest project, could turn out to be increasingly difficult with the added distraction to his professor.

Tom knew this shouldn’t bother him. Last year he had found out about his relation to Salazar Slytherin and found the chamber of secrets, now he had a plan that would grant him immortality. These little inconveniences were nothing to him.   
  
Besides, if the new Defense Teacher was as young as everybody said, he’d be easily manipulated and if not, there were other ways to get rid of pesky teachers.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

 

Harry Potter just wanted to be fucking done with it. He’d reached the point of no return and he was ready to tell any- and everyone, who would listen, all about it.

So, you managed to kill an evil overlord and what happens? The ministry launches a fucking investigation against you.  
  
All of that only happened, because of the ‘multiple accounts of breaking and entering’ (especially in regards to Gringotts), the unlawful use of Polyjuice and finally the claiming of an heirloom home, Sirius Black’s home, without proper proceedings. All in all it was concluded that the property damages were worth millions.

Great.

Ron had grown pale when he’d read through their accusatorial. Everyone was well aware that there was no way that you could put Harry Potter or any of his entourage in jail without causing a riot. However, the ministry was not above ruining their lives.  
  
They buried them under forms and regulations, that were so harsh, they might as well go to Azkaban. However, not to fear there, was a helpful alternative to the life full of debt with an extensional criminal record!

  
Harry and his friends were looking at right now.  
  
They could employ with the ministry.  
  
Of course, they would be expected to promote the good it was doing now; – “Where?” Harry had asked exasperated, the first time they had this conversation; and bury the bad it had caused over the years.  
  
If they agreed, they'd get a life contract that would bind them to the ministry for as long as they were able to work but all charges would be dropped against them. They had a week to decide.   
  
It was blackmail, plain and simple.

Harry thumbed his head against the wall of the small alleyway, he was leaning against. He’d had to run, because the moment they’d stepped outside the ministry they were swarmed by paparazzi. Ron, Hermione and he had a deal, when it came to paparazzi it was every man for himself.  
  
They learned that one the hard way.   
  
Going out together in public had become more or less impossible for them and none of them appreciated the attention.  
They were still healing.   
  
They had been on the run damnit, they had been hunted down for almost a year, before the war had come to a head at Hogwarts. Sadly, now the constant feeling of being watched wasn’t just some weird symptom of their PTSD, it was their new reality.  
  


It’s been two months since the end of the war and Harry could confidently say that he hated his life.

Hated it.

He couldn’t openly be with the person he loved. Hadn’t been able to at Hogwarts, and for sure wasn’t now.   
  
He couldn’t help Draco. Had never been able to. Not really, not in a way that mattered.  
  
Draco would give him shit for thinking like that, but Harry knew that this was true. Hogwarts had been their only solace from the world and even there they had to pretend to hate each other to keep themselves safe.

Draco’s father would have killed him, if he had known.   
  
No one besides Hermione, Ron and Ginny knew about them.   
  
Hermione and Ron basically knew since the beginning and they tried to help him every step of the way.  
  
Ron, who Harry would forever be thankful for, had made it his life mission to make sure the world thought that he hated Malfoy and that helped them a lot. Because try as they might they gravitated towards each other.  
  
When Ginny had found out, by catching them in the midst of one hot and heavy make out session in one of the abandoned classrooms, she’d immediately agreed to support them and front as the girlfriend.

All in all, Harry logically knew that they had gone to insane lengths to keep their relationship a secret, however, he’d never guessed that they’d be so good at it.   
  
It was as Ron would put it, incredibly ironic because at this point people were doing their work for them. If Harry looked at Malfoy too long, people thought Malfoy was about to get challenged to a wizard duel.

But Ron knew Harry was trying really hard not to check out Draco’s ass, so he smirked.   
  
Now everyone saw a smirking Ron and a staring Harry and instead of the tease it was, all they saw was the imaginary mutual hate they both held for their eternal rival. Who’s demise they simply must be plotting right now. Merlin.

If he was being honest, he could have probably dealt with the attention or the ministry or his friends not being able to meet him in public anymore.  
  
He could have dealt with all of it. He’d still be pissed as hell and going on about it, but he could have pulled that off, either way.

What he couldn’t handle was the fact that the world had put him in a closet again.

That he couldn’t openly be with the person he had been messily in love since their third year of school, which felt ages away.

That Draco could not simply live his life. His parents and every other former death eater hated him deeply for letting Harry get away and the public despised him for the deeds of his father and let’s not kid ourselves, some of his own.

It often boiled down to Draco these days. He lived with him, had since the night Voldemort died. Secretly of course and the worst part was that Draco wasn’t even bothered by it.

Harry was going nuts over the fact that Draco had not only been denied the chance to find any sort of employment, but was now also regularly harassed when he tried to go somewhere. Draco said it didn’t bother him. He was honest when he said that, too. He was just happy that he got out of his childhood home, out of his oppressive ‘friendships’, away from the darkness.

  
 -

  
He’d burned the dark mark away that same night, he went to Harry to stay with him.   
  
Silently crying in their bathroom.   
  
“I did it for my mom.” He whispered brokenly.

“I know.” Harry had tried to sooth, but he could only look at the shiny, red welled flesh that had replaced the tattoo.   
  
He’d burned it out with magic so dark it would take ages to heal, if it ever really healed at all.   
  
“I hate that you are hurt. On you that mark only ever stood for your bravery.” He kissed the hand he was holding on to, before sliding down against the tiles so he could sit next to Draco. His side pressed against the other mans.  
“You did it to protect the people you love and to me that will always speak of your strength.”

Draco sighed deeply, before he buried his face in’s Harry neck. Harry didn’t comment on the tears and just stroked his boyfriend’s hair gently.   
  
“I couldn’t bear it anymore.” Draco whispered brokenly.  
  
And Harry nodded as he looked down on his hands, the left sported ‘I shall not tell lies.’ and the right matched it with ‘I will not break rules.’.  
Curtesy of Umbridge the crazy bitch. His gaze lingers on the bitemark from Nagini on his left forearm, the scars from the basilisk’s tooth on his right.

“Our bodies tell the stories of the battles we’ve won. These are marks left over by the shit we’ve overcome. They show our strengths, not our weaknesses.” He murmured into Draco’s hair.   
  
“I’ve overcome this.” Draco agreed, breathing tiredly.  
  
-  
  


Thinking back to that night Harry shook his head and apparated home, to share the news.

By the time he was done, he had run his hand so many times through his hair that it stood on end, while Draco calmly sat on their couch, potions book in his left hand, watching Harry pace nervously, while drawing up one eyebrow.

“You could pay your way out of it?”   
  
“My funds are being monitored because Gringotts reserves the right to take what they need from them for the repairs. They will be completely confiscated by the ministry, the moment I agree.”

“You could also use my money? I have three different cells that I can access freely.”  
  
Harry looked at him for a moment before shaking his head. “They don’t want me to be able to pay my way out of it. It’s a conspiracy. It won’t matter how much money I have, because they’ll just ask for more. The goblins are obviously in on it. Probably trying to use the whole thing to their advantage… They’d know if you paid my debt and that would instantly blow our cover.”

Draco nodded. “Would that be so bad? To acknowledge this?”

Harry stared at him for a moment. Before he whispered, voice heavy with emotion. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat if it wouldn’t kill you. If people knew you were double crossing Voldemort, every death eater that is left over will come for you. They already hate you because you ‘accidently’ let me escape. If they knew… I’m not saying we’ll keep this a secret forever and I hate doing it now, but with the current climate you’d be dead within the week. They are desperate.” He shuddered to think about what could happen.

Draco had moved closer during his rant and pulled him into a kiss. Soft and slow while carding his hands through Harry’s hair.  
The kiss means everything. It means Draco is accepting his reasoning. It means that Draco isn’t agreeing with him, because he feels defeated, but rather because he makes sense. Harry leans into it and gives as good as he gets.

When they finally pull apart, they are breathing hard. There’s a moment just before Draco pulls Harry into their bedroom, where Harry isn’t sure if they shouldn’t talk this out.

He didn’t know if he needed to assure Draco, if he himself needed assurance, because he had basically just proposed, but then Draco grabbed his butt with a devilish smirk and the moment was broken. Harry’s smile spread slow and wide on his face, as he followed his love upstairs.

The rest of the night was spent in bed, with softly spoken I love yous, accompanied by pleasure, reassurance and reaffirmation that they are good.   
  
That even if it all goes to shit, this part of them still works.

They looked at the pieces and rebuild each other, the way they'd always done. It was as good a prayer as any.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Hermione visited them the next day. She carried a small package with her and a determined look on her face. The moment she was through the door she locked it behind her. But before he could ask, she slightly shock her head. After she’d cast every spell he’d ever known to deter listening in, she nodded and sat down at their dining room table, placing the small parcel carefully on top.

“I have found something that could give us peace.”  
  
Draco snorted. “This sounds like a suicide pact waiting to happen.”  
  
Hermione bumped their shoulders together and grinned conspiratorially. “I’m not sure it isn’t.”  
  
“Sounds great.” Harry replied dryly as he eyed the parcel cautiously.

“I’ve been researching solutions to our dilemma. I mean it’s not like we’ll be able to live our life the way we want, right?”  
  
“That much is obvious.” Draco agreed easily.  
  
Hermione nodded as she opened the parcel and revealed a small golden pendant that was eerily reminiscent of the time turner, she’d had…   
  
“Hermione, no! Bad things happen to wizards who mess with time.”  
  
Hermione looked exasperated. “This isn’t just some modified time turner. It’s a returner.”   
  
Draco’s grip tightened around his cup of tea as he stared at her in wonder. “How did you get this?”  
  
“Nicholas Flamel requested a meeting a few days ago, concerning something Dumbledore had left for us. I didn’t really think anything of it, but after we met, I did my research, and everything checks out. This is a returner.”

“What does it do?”

Draco answered before Hermione could, his voice barely a whisper,

“It sends you to a point of no return. It’s a fixed place in time and it destroys everything you leave behind. If we use this, we give up on our reality completely. It banishes all that ties you to this future. The best part: because it’s not meant for travel and the sorcerer can’t pick the date themselves, it doesn’t register as a time travel device.”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. “Not only that but it’s been widely regarded as blessed by fate, because only a few people are able to use it. So, if it lets you travel, it must be fate.”

Harry groaned. “Yeah, so I’m not risking that. I’d rather continue on the way things are, than lose everybody I’ve ever loved to another time without any way to reach him.”   
  
Hermione shook her head again. “Look at the inscription.”   
  
He nodded as he carefully took the little device in his hands.

The names ‘Draco Malfoy’ ‘Harry Potter’ ‘Hermione Granger’ and ‘Ronald Weasley’ were neatly engraved into the mysterious device.

He stared at it for a long time. “This would break Ron’s heart. He loves his family more than anything.”

Hermione looked at him in disbelief. “Yes, and that’s exactly why he wants to do it. He wants to give his family the chance to live. To survive.”

He stared at her, before he nodded.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose before he asked, “Do we have any way of knowing where we’ll end up?”

Hermione turned grim at that. “We don’t. That’s how it works. We have to trust it to know what’s best.”

Harry shook his head slowly. “Mark my words Hermione, this is just another mission. We just went through hell and now he wants us to what? Meet the young Dark Lord and help him find love?” 

Hermione laughed. “Whatever happens, happens. I guess. I’m just over this. I want to start feeling like my own person again. I want to be able to go outside without people swarming me. I want to be able to choose for myself. I want more for all of us and I think this is a chance. Yes, it’s dangerous and it’s completely uncharted territory. But god is it worth it, if it just gives us the ghost of a chance to live like we want to. To be free.”

Draco slowly nodded. “We are going to need all the money we have and we’re going to get fake birth and school certificates. I know where we can get those without a time stamp, actually. If we’re really going to do this, we need to go into it as best prepared as we can.”

Hermione and Harry stared at him for a few seconds, as if estimating how serious he was, before Harry turned to Hermione with a tight smile. “Let’s do this.”

It ended in a group hug. When Ron came around later, they made dinner together and talked about wicked scenarios in which they’d end up in the time of the roman empire. They knew they were being silly, but it felt good to have that luxury.

 

The next day they were all brimming with enthusiasm and energy. Draco was put in charge of getting the identification. He’d get them through his mother, who still had a lot of pull with certain ministry members.

Hermione was put in charge of getting their assets in order. She made a list of how much money each of them had and how they could go about getting access to it. Hermione and Ron didn’t have nothing, but it was of little importance if compared to what Harry had stowed away, who in turn, paled when he saw what Malfoy had at his disposal.

They’d claim medical emergency. The goblins had to open up the safes for that one. No way around it. In the meantime, Harry could use the tiny bag he had once bought from the goblins to gain unlimited access to his vault. They’d only need a hot minute to leave his vault empty. Malfoy would withdraw everything in person around the same time and he’d be escorted by Ron, who’d be in disguise, posing as an auror. If Gringotts believed the ministry would claim the assets of the Malfoy heir, they’d be all to happy to oblige. The ministry would owe them and that was worth a lot these days.

Ron’s focus was set on getting as many wizarding family trees as he could possibly find. They wouldn’t claim any connection to the obvious ones, but a missed cousin here and a runaway brother there, could make a lot of things easier.

They decided early on that they wouldn’t alter their appearances, no matter what. It only took one forgotten glamor to lose trust build over months, years even. They’d find a way to explain what needed explaining and hide what they could.

It took them the whole week to get everything sorted.  
  
Under different circumstances they would have done most of their research in advance. This way however they just gathered what they could and tried to get a general idea. There was nothing more they could do, really.

Their personal deadline was significantly influenced by the time frame the ministry had given them to ‘make a choice’ regarding their ‘job offer’.

However, the moment they all stood in their respective spot, bags strapped to their backs, they knew that this was what they needed. If they couldn’t enjoy their life here, they’d just throw themselves at the next big adventure.

Draco laughed openly at the face Harry made, when he realized that he stood in an especially deep mud pile.   
  
They’d apparated to a remote collection.  
  
  
They now stood on something akin to a field that had been left barren for the past few hundred years. It was as safe a bet as any.

Hermione looked positively giddy as she took out the returner out of her pocket.   
  
The old magic felt tangible in the air.   
  
Almost like fate.  
  
Harry had never felt like this before. This belonging.   
  
This feeling that he was untouchable. Ron must have felt it, too, if the face splitting grin was anything to go by.  
  
Draco stood arms wide open, face turned towards the sky and let out a scream of elation.   
  
They all smiled at that.   
  
What a broken mess they were, didn’t matter where they were headed.  
  
Heroes weren’t made they were broken in. 

Before anyone could do anything else, the artefact started glowing and spinning, the air thickened around them, there was a sudden pressure that snapped away, just before it became truly uncomfortable, a final flash of light and then they were off.

The sensation was close to a portkey but ten times worth. When they landed on the plot of unused land, it didn’t look much different, then it had in their time, which was interesting. However, what did look different were the fighter jets they could see from afar.

Hermione gasped as she stood up on shaky legs, clutching at Ron, who looked like he was a second away from hurling. Draco took in the situation, nodded and said “Diagon Alley. Now.” They all agreed.  
Moments later they were there, judging by the clothes Harry sighed deeply. He knew this, had seen this before. In memories. “Let’s go to the leaking cauldron.” Everyone agreed.

Half an hour later they sat around a much better-looking table with an overenthusiastic and dynamic Tom serving them. Harry had secured the paper. Ron was giving their order. Draco leaned against Harry, still somewhat out of it after the returner. Who’d vanished upon arrival.

“We arrived in the midst of another war. This time it’s a muggle one.”

“Well shit, who’d have thought?” Draco supplied, sarcasm only slightly muffled against Harry’s shoulder.   
  
“We arrived in November of the year 1943, people.” Hermione grunted.

Harry laughed. “So, exactly 3 months prior to Tom Riddle creating his first Horcrux. That’s not a coincidence.”

“What do you want us to do? Infiltrate Hogwarts and stop him?” Draco muffled against him.   
  
There was shocked silence all around.

“I mean we would have to do an impeccable job at forging our documents, when we apply to work with children.” Ron said, clearly feeling torn.

Hermione just stared thoughtfully at the date. “We’d be able to prevent it all.”

Draco snorted. “Gryffindors. Don’t need to infiltrate Hogwarts for that. Just go and kill him, before he becomes a problem. It’s not like you haven’t done it before, except this time it’s over in an afternoon. There, fixed it.” He was still snuggled against Harry’s side, so the words came out a little muffled.

“Harry, I don’t know if you knew this, but you have a bad case of homicidal cuddle bug.” Ron said, sounding mildly perturbed.

Harry snorted and replied, dryer then the desert. “Who knew?”  
  
Draco was now silently laughing, when it hit him.  
  
They could sit together as a group of friends and nobody disturbed them. They could be affectionate with each other in public.

Wizarding London had never outlawed gay marriage. They could get married tomorrow. His arm snaked around Draco and he forcibly pulled him in for a moment. Squeezing him and earning a slightly disgruntled yelp for that.

Hermione laughed at their open display of affection, while Ron just smiled warmly. His best friend didn’t have to hide anymore.

“Let’s try and prevent him from making his first Horcrux. If he does it, we’re killing him, before he gets a chance to do more.” Harry suggested.

“That’s actually not a bad idea. Especially with what you told me on how Dumbledore treated him as a kid.” Ron agreed. “But if we can’t get through to him, it’s safer to kill him, before he escalates.” He concluded and Hermione nodded.

Draco looked down at Harrys hands before saying, “If we do this, we need one of us in a teaching position at Hogwarts. We also need eyes in Hogsmeade and an official auror.”

“Going by the time period I think it’s safe to assume that I wouldn’t have the best of luck going in as an auror.” Hermione answered dejected.

Draco and Ron nodded guiltily as Harry contemplated how to go about this. “Horace is the one he confronts about Horcruxes. So, we’ll need someone, who can shadow him. Draco how’d you feel about doing your mastery in potions? So, you can later apply for a teaching position?”

Draco nodded before adding, “If you apply as a new Defense Against the Arts Teacher, I’m in.”

Harry smiled slowly and nodded. “Hermione in Hogsmeade, preferably working at the Three Broomsticks, keeping an ear open for gossip and Ron as the auror?”

“I’ll do it. I have plenty of time to read and research that way and Ron can get onto cases and see how far the infiltration goes from inside the ministry. Even if I don’t think there’s much happening there yet. We’ll have to nip that in the bud, before it gets a chance to escalate.” Hermione concludes, before looking at Ron, waiting for his answer.

Ron musters everyone on the table. “We’ll invest two years in this. Seeing if we can save him, but after that, I want us to focus on our own lives. We have sacrificed enough already.”

They nodded at each other in silent promise. Then a thoughtful glance from Hermione, was followed up by the assertion.   
  
“So, we are going to need to work on your occlumency Harry.”   
  
A huge smile spread on Draco’s lips, before he started laughing. “We really, really don’t.” He snorted as Harry blushed, with his head ducked down.

“What?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird that Snape never knew that Harry and I were together?”

Hermione stared at Harry before she gasped. “No!”

Draco chortled. “Yes! After the ministry, I made him learn it. He hated me for weeks before we worked it out.”

“That… I just thought you two needed time together after what had happened.”

She looked a little lost, before her eyes focused on Harry and she started chiding him enunciating every word with a hit to his shoulder. “You. Had. Me. Worried. For. Weeks.”

Harry, who looked really sheepish, by now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t trust Snape not to break down my barriers, if he noticed I could do it, you know? I expected him to search for what I was trying to hide. So, I gave him everything else, instead. Launching it at him all at once made him remarkably angry, so everything I said about his lessons being horrendous was still true.”

She nodded amicably. “One problem less to worry about I guess.” Harry nodded.

The next hour was spent discussing their respective backgrounds. They had weeded through the history books and found a French city that had been completely eviscerated by Grindlewald. There had been a lot of old and new wizard families. They would claim relation to the ones that had been eradicated.

Harry would claim a lose relation to a distant branch of the Potters that had lived there. They went by Graves, which would make him Harry Graves, Master of Death.  
His decision was accompanied by manic laughter from Draco, the asshat.

The tables turned quickly, when it was decided that Draco should claim the Vane name, which Harry insistently kept mispronouncing as ‘vain’.

Ron looked at them in fascination, before concluding “You two idiots truly deserve each other.”   
  
Since Hermione and Ron would pose as a married couple and the Davies had a branch of family in the city that they’d broken off contact with, a long time ago, Ron would claim their name and Hermione would in turn take on his.  
  
No one would dare pressure a young woman into laying open her heritage when she had the scarring word Mudblood still pinkly ingrained into her forearm. They’d just look at it as another one of Grindlewald’s horrid crimes. Small mercies.

Relations established, and papers forged, their first order of business was Gringotts.   
  
After making it clear, that they wanted to be handled as a family, they were given one of the bigger vaults Gringotts had to offer for their fortune. Each of them got a small money pouch that could access the vault, and that was that.  
  
The goblins had accepted their papers without batting an eye. Truth be told they were official ministry papers, just filled out by themselves. So there, was truly no reason not to accept them. They were now official. Smiling they made their way to a seamstress.   
  
Hermione especially, needed age appropriate clothing, people were looking, and attention was the last thing they needed.

Hermione looked adorable in her outfit and they all knew it, but heaven forbid one of them said a word, by the looks of it they’d be put into a coma the moment she got her hands on a book heavy enough.  
  
Her attire was made up of four elegant pleated over the knee skirts (because you can’t run in the tight ones, Ron) and tight dress shirts with Peter Pan collars. She also got a few snugly fitting cardigans to wear over them and a long dark grey winter coat that covered her skirts completely.

Ron and Draco got themselves tightly tailored black dress pants. Ron added a few different colored finely knit sweatshirts and a few simple T-shirts, because he wouldn’t need to dress up much for his job.  
  
Draco bought some light blue fitted dress shirts and a lot of light grey vests to put over. He could always come back, but he liked that style the best. The style put a nice emphasize on his lean trim figure.

Harry went a similar route. He bought tightly fitted, the wizarding world never really got the trend of lose clothing, well except for cloaks, dark jeans, skipped the sweaters completely and bought just a lot of dark grey dress shirts, instead.

Where Draco and Ron opted for sensible black dress shoes, Harry went for soft soled leather combat boots, that he could pull over his pants without a problem.   
  
He had seen a few wizards wear combat boots already and could only guess that they’d need them when they tried to walk through the rubble in London.  
  
The dress shirts were also well in style and the jeans could be explained away as a European quirk or something.

He just hated the feel of dress pants. Always had. They had been the bane of his existence as a Hogwarts student, because they were too soft and delicate.   
  
With the way his life had gone he went through the pairs like other students went through their toothbrushes. Not being able to spend money on clothes he actually wanted to wear most of his life, but being forced to replace the nice but susceptible school uniform every other month, had been grating on him for so long, that he would have happily opted for leather pants, if he’d been given the option.   
  
Simply because of the durability.

Done with the shopping Draco had dragged Hermione into a cosmetic shop, to help her pick out stuff to tame her hair into the accepted fashion. Although if Harry was being honest the vain idiot probably needed something for his hair, too.  
  
Not even two minutes later Hermione and Draco left the shop looking downright disgusted. “You don’t want to know what stuff was put in make-up, before the regulations have been forced on the industry. I’m going to the potion store and I’ll buy ingredients for a few things. It’ll be my first attempt at making anything like make up, but at least your hair won’t be eternally greasy and your skin won’t deteriorate at thirty-five.” He said, looking at Hermione, who looked thankful.

The rest of their time was spent at the ministry, getting their papers filed, their school credentials acknowledged, and their apparation licenses done. You couldn’t fake every paper and you needed to report to the local ministry anyway if you relocated, so they did.

As war refugees they were treated exceptionally nice. So, Ron immediately took the opportunity to ask about an open post as an auror. With all his paper work right there and his outstanding credentials, he was immediately forwarded to the department to interview.

All in all, their day was incredibly successful.   
  
That evening when Draco mocked him lovingly for his new last name again, he muttered half asleep.   
  
“Laugh it up Draco, it’s going to be yours, the moment you say yes.” At that there was so much silence that Harry cracked one eye open to look at his boyfriend.   
  
“What?” He asked.   
  
Draco stared down at him from his sitting position on the bad.   
  
“Yes.”   
  
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like that?”   
  
Draco nodded.   
  
And that was that.


	2. changes, introductions and other catastrophes

A month later they all crammed into the apartment Hermione and Ron had gotten in Hogsmeade. It was beautiful, full of light and filled to the brim with their books.

Draco Graves, they had gotten registered the next day with a from happiness brimming Hermione and Ron, as their witnesses, stood next to the living room window, both arms full of make-up swatches, with Hermione next to him picking out her favorite shades, while 4 different cauldrons simmered casually away.

Ron and Harry were currently laying on the living room carpet drawing up a curriculum for each year at Hogwarts. They had been in the war. They knew what was needed and what wasn’t. Harry had a whole presentation going. Armando Dippet had announced that they’d like to interview for a Defense Teacher as soon as possible, since Merrythought wanted to retire. However, it was wildly known that she really didn’t, so not a lot of people reacted to the announcement, which helped Harry a great deal.

Draco had already met with Slughorn and would start his mastery after the new year. He himself had no such hopes, since Merrythought had still taught when winter break started, but he was going all out. He dressed to impress, bound the scrolls with his curriculum and got his papers in order. Draco had long given up on taming his hair in any way shape or form, he just tousled it even more and commented that it gave him a roguish look.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

 

Armando Dippet hadn’t planned on employing a Defense Teacher immediately. He wanted to feel out the competition, get to know a few options and dismiss them as unworthy replacements. The school board had pressured him into holding interviews, however, it was still up to him to choose someone and if no worthy replacement showed up, well tough luck.

Sadly, the moment the young man entered his office he knew that this one was interesting. The man had been in a war and he had come out on top. Everyone had read about the tragic fall of a lot of wizarding cities around the world. The young man’s scars spoke volumes about what he had overcome. His demeaner was respectful and confident and he’d brought with him a curriculum for every year, that encompassed defense spells and practical strategies. He enlisted whole scenarios he planned to reenact with the students, from basic to challenging for each year. Harry Graves was not joking around. This was clearly important to him.

When asked why he considered this job so soon after what must have been a traumatizing event the bright green eyes focused on the headmaster.

“My teacher paved the way for me and my friends. Without him we would have died like all the others. We weren’t in a fair fight; we were on the receiving end of an annihilation squad and his teachings helped us survive. Not everyone has access to an extensive defense education, and I find that grossly negligent. Grindlewald’s man aren’t looking into getting themselves a dueling partner, they fight unfair and use underhanded tactics to gain the upper hand. They are much scarier than any boggart could ever be.”

He paused for a moment, before he continued. “Students need to learn real defense. They are being scared day after day, by papers reporting attacks, politicians predicting the enemies next move and the consequences of that, even the war the muggle world wages, gets scarier to watch by the second.  
I found that the only answer to that fear is knowledge. If schools don’t offer the right help to combat fear, desperate students will do desperate things. The next Grindlewald could be sitting in one of your classrooms right now, building his following with promises of dark magic that will help everyone survive these troubling times. I want to do everything in my power to ease the fear and equip these students with the confidence that they know how to survive.”

Armando Dippet stared at the man for an entire minute. Eyes piercing as if he was trying to look into the other’s soul. What he said rang true and he felt like a fool for continuing to indulge Merrythought, who’s curriculum was more extensive than the young man’s but didn’t include half as many spells with practical use, didn’t cover any kind of strategy, didn’t handle real life situations.  
If he employed this man, he’d be taking a huge risk. He wasn’t one of the people the school board wanted to see in that position. He was a wild card.

Mr. Graves was young, but he had experience. His students could really profit from him and if he didn’t deliver, they could employ someone else.

He finally sighed, he’d employ him for the rest of the semester and if the students learned well under him, he could stay.

He nodded shortly. “I am willing to offer you the position on a trial basis.” After explaining the finer details, to which the young man agreed without batting an eye, Mr. Graves blushed slightly before adding.

“There is another issue. I wasn’t sure how to broach this subject, but my husband, Draco Graves, is starting his mastery with Horace Slughorn at the beginning of the new year. I trust sharing accommodations won’t be a problem?” The sheepish look the young man gave him made Armando laugh heartily. “It won’t. I don’t know what you’ve heard in Europe, but we don’t discriminate here.” He assured. “No harm done. I haven’t met the young man Horace has taken on, but I’m sure he’ll be a delight to work with.”

The man in front of him smiled happily. It was such a drastic change in mood that Armando couldn’t help but chuckle again. Young love.

“So, Mr. Graves let’s get you situated by January 4th. What do you say? Classes will start the next day.”

“Please call me Harry and that would be great.” Harry nodded and with a short handshake they parted ways.

After Harry had left his office Armando sighed deeply. He knew this day would come eventually, had dreaded it to be honest.  
Merrythought had been a dear friend of his for years, but she had ignored her deteriorating mental health for too long. He couldn’t in good consciousness let her continue. Not if people like Harry were out there, trying to give everything he had to make sure students had a fighting chance. Heavy-heartedly he went to her office to tell her about the changes.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

That night they celebrated in the Hogshead, since Hermione couldn’t get drunk at her place of work.

The next morning, he slowly untangled himself from Malfoy whose nose had been smushed against his neck as he had lain half on top of him and went to the kitchen, only stopping in front of the mirror because he saw something weird on his chest.

He hadn’t realized how drunk they must have been until he woke up with a tattoo over his heart. It was still slightly raised and red against the contrast of the black ink on his skin.

It was a verse from Invictus. Jesus. He’d thought a lot about the poem and sure it had resonated with him, but he would have never gotten a tattoo if he’d been sober. He felt like he should blame Draco.

Anyway, this had definitely been done by Hermione it was way to neat to be anything that was common in this time period.

It looked surprisingly good on his toned chest, written in an angular font like that... If he was being honest the longer, he looked at it, the more he liked it. Which was good, because it was now with him forever. The words ingrained on his chest read

I am the master of my fate,  
I am the captain of my soul.

After making coffee and a ridiculously fatty breakfast the others trickled in. When he first saw Draco, he was all up for giving him shit for not stopping him from getting the tattoo, until he saw the name Harry tattooed over Draco’s heart. His breath hitched at that and then came Ron, who had put all of their names on top of his left pectoral.

Harry stared in confusion for about a minute before he asked, “Why?”

Ron grunted into his coffee, before explaining. “You got yours first and when you saw that Draco picked your name, you were adamant that he too deserved to be on top of someone’s heart. It felt weird to just get Hermione and Draco, so I got you too. It’s not like my heart ‘s not big enough for all three of you and then some.” He smiled tiredly at Hermione, who returned the smile in kind and carded her fingers through his hair.

Harry stared at them in horror. “I was the bad influence?” Draco smile was positively lewd when he said, “The worst.” and pulled him into a kiss.

Needless to say, breakfast was slow.

Christmas was right around the corner and they all didn’t really have anything to do. Harry and Draco spent a lot of time doing what they’d never done before, going out on dates. They held hands and just reveled in the most mundane things, like eating out together.  
Picking the other up from places or meeting them there.

The only thing that had changed between them was that they mutually had to remind each other of wearing the rings.

They weren’t used to jewelry and struggled in the beginning with putting them back on after having pulled them off. That was until Draco put a sticking charm on Harry’s ring that prevented him from pulling it off for a week straight and after that it felt natural. Draco couldn’t have guessed that Harry would retaliate by putting a hex on him that left him itching all over, if he tried pulling his ring off. Funny thing was they weren’t even paranoid about the other not wearing the ring meaning anything, they just were dicks sometimes.

Harry had talked twice more with Armando. Once to get him to introduce his curriculum to the school board and have them approve of the rule that if a student used any of the advanced techniques, he taught against another student outside of class, he shall be expelled immediately.  
After reviewing the curses and counter curses he planned to introduce, the school board had been impressed, dare he say happy? The old families thought it important that their children learned these more applicable techniques. However, they also saw the danger and agreed after a few short discussions.

 

Another point of concern Harry had talked to Armando about was the situation with the young wizards and witches who had to go back to the muggle world over summer.

He explained how the rationing worked and why the situation would only worsen with time, by the end of it he showed him memories of the few times he went to Muggle London, saying it was akin to a death sentence to send the kids back. The additional stress of not being able to use magic, would only make the situation worse.

After broaching the topic with the ministry, the headmaster had secured a small fund that would be used to rent out the Three Broomsticks Inn and the Hogshead over summer for those who needed it. Teachers would take turns staying at the Inns over summer, to help supervise the situation. Luckily it wasn’t that many students or else things might have been more difficult to resolve.

Suffice to say that by the time Harry and Draco were situating themselves in their new flat in Hogwarts, Armando Dippet was already more than a little delighted with Harry, which made his introduction in the dining hall enthusiastic.

The moment they all sat down at the staff table, Harry and Draco next to each other on the far right, the murmuring started.

They were more or less dressed up. Harry would have loved to wear the Hoodie that Malfoy had gifted him only a few weeks ago, but he knew that they wouldn’t understand it.

It didn’t keep him from wearing it in private though. It was dark grey, a little oversized, ridiculously soft and the best thing about it was the lettering. The bright green letters on top of his chest exclaimed:

THE UNFOR-DORK-ABLES

IMPERI-NOT  
CRUCI-OLALA  
AVADA-KADABRA

It read like a concert line up and was honestly the best thing he’d ever gotten. The gift had been Draco’s way of congratulating Harry for getting the job. Harry and Ron had ended up laughing themselves silly. Hermione had stared at him before commenting something about the blackest humor, she’d ever seen and Draco couldn’t help but look fondly upon his snorting mess of a husband, with his messy hair and his glasses askew, he looked simply a-dork-able.

What they had ended up wearing were their casual, slightly dressed up ensembles. Combat boots, fitted dark jeans, dark grey dress shirt tucked in, for Harry and the black dress shoes and pants, light blue dress shirt and grey vest for Draco.

They must have looked quite delectable, because people kept winking at them. Draco smirked at him, when he noticed all the shy glances. However, Harry knew exactly how to get Draco’s undivided attention. He smiled that bright and honest smile, with the dimples and everything.  
Hermione had once called Harry out on ‘dimpling’ for doing it, so yeah, he dimpled at Draco, who in turn blushed brightly, stared for a moment and then looked at his plate for a good minute.

When he came back up, it was Harrys turn to smirk. He was just about to kick Harry under the table like a five-year-old, when Armando stood up.

 

“The very best of evenings to you! I welcome back our freshly returned students. A great few changes await you. First of all, I would like to introduce the newest addition to our staff, Harry Graves, who will be teaching Defense Against Dark Arts, this year. I also wish a warm welcome to Draco Graves, who will be completing his mastery with professor Slughorn.

With professor Graves as the new Defense teacher there is one new rule that has been approved across the school board. That is that every student who uses his teachings against another student outside of the classroom, will be expelled immediately.

The reason for that is, the new curriculum. You will dedicate a lot more time to applicable spells. You will also practice a lot in your lessons, and you’ll learn more advanced spells than you have before. These changes apply for every year.”

He pauses shortly, to let the sudden burst of excited rumors die down.

“Furthermore, it has been brought to my attention that the situation with the muggle war has become quite worrisome. So, I urge any of you, to come to me if you don’t feel safe returning home for the summer. We will see to it that you’ll be given shelter. There is no shame in asking for help. We have the funding of the ministry, so please don’t hold back on anyone’s behalf. So, without further ado! Thank you and enjoy your meal!”

Professor Slughorn, call me Horace, was the first one to come over and introduce himself.

“Draco, you didn’t tell me that your husband is such a catch!” He exclaimed loudly, to Harry’s infinite embarrassment.  
Draco, who realized that, sported his signature shit eating grin, just said, “He is, isn’t he?”

“Ah, young love! Harry, can I call you Harry? I must say I was very impressed by your curriculum. I’d love to sit in on one of your lessons, of course I’ll refrain my curiosity until you have gotten used to the horrors of being a teacher.” He laughed heartily at that. “You of course may sit in on one of my lessons, any time.” Horace hurried to add, while Harry smiled amusedly. It was certainly a warm welcome.

“Thank you, Horace. Come by any time. I’d like to hear your opinion.” Harry answered evenly. Albus spoke from his place near Dippet, with a twinkle his eyes, he said, “This year certainly won’t be boring.” And Harry silently agreed.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Tom didn’t know how to feel about any of it. The moment he saw the man with the tousled black hair, the bright green eyes and the dimples, who had obviously influenced the headmaster a lot in a short period of time, he felt something like hope.

He wouldn’t have to go to that horrible orphanage over the summer and he’d actually learn something so useful in defense, that they could get expelled for using it. It sounded too good to be true.

He had been prepared to hate this man, and yet it just wasn’t there. He was getting ahead of himself, he had to see one of Graves lessons first.

His fellow Slytherins seemed to be quite taken with the young men, the girls especially. People are truly blind to the things that they can’t comprehend easily. The two new additions to the staff were obviously together.

“So, what do you think?” Avery murmured from his place next to him. “I think we should wait until we’ve seen what they can do.”

Lestrange nodded. “I hope he’s not all talk. We could use a solid defense teacher, for once.” Rosier looked like he couldn’t agree more, Mulciber however wrinkled his nose. “The dude doesn’t look like much and how old is he supposed to be anyway?”  
Nott chortled at that, “Looks like your girlfriend disagrees.” One look towards the vain fifth year Mulciber had been courting all year, left Tom inclined to agree. Mulciber just glared at her and then at Nott.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

It’s been three days before Tom and his friends saw Professor Graves outside of the dining hall and it wasn’t in defense. They had just studied Amortentia and the way it affected people and were now sitting on their respective essays when he knocked against the doorframe and stepped inside.

The hair seemed like it was always tousled, but he wasn’t wearing glasses this time.

Before he even really stepped inside the classroom, he coughed. “Merlin Draco, did you bath in your cologne or what…” Everyone in the room remained silent, as they watched the exchange. Slughorn looked positively gleeful and Draco couldn’t have looked any smugger if he tried.

Professor Graves groaned exasperated. “It’s Amortentia isn’t it?”

The blond man looked even more delighted and nodded, since he was obviously grinning too hard to be able say much else.  
“Great I married a child.” Professor Graves replied dryly and then continued without missing a beat “I need some Gillyweed for a presentation.”

Draco was still smiling, when he threw it at him, clearly aiming for the face, Professor Graves caught it effortlessly, dimpled at Professor Slughorn, and said “Thank you for the Gillyweed, Horace.”

Horace looked at them both, eyes twinkling. “Of course, happy to help.”

And then Professor Graves was gone.

Tom had never seen married people act like that. Professor Graves was obviously in love with the young man who was currently in charge of brewing another potion for presentation purposes. However, they still bickered and Draco, even went so far as to throw something at his husband’s head, who didn’t even bat an eye.

What the fuck. There was no decorum to speak of.

He honestly didn’t know love could look like that. When someone in the orphanage had fallen in love, they always became even more unbearable. The married couples he observed in his lackey’s homes, the few times he had visited, anyway, didn’t really interact all that much and when they did, it never felt that real, more like a performance. Calling your husband, a nine-year-old or mocking him for loving you, they didn’t even do it in bad taste. It was just how they worked.

Over the rustling of quills scratching over paper he could hear Horace ask Draco in a low voice about his personal life. “So, how long have you known each other?” “Eight years, give or take a few months.” “So long? Have you been together all this time?” “We’ve been together for five years. We would have married the moment we were of age, but with Grindlewald so active in Europe, we didn’t get the chance, so we haven’t been married that long.”

Horace nodded sadly, before he chuckled. “Is he used to you throwing things at his face?” He couldn’t see Draco’s face, but he sounded like he was smiling when he said, “Back home he was a seeker and I was the chaser on the opposing team. So yeah, I’d say he is quite used to it.”

Horace chortled again and then asked him, how the potion was coming along. Tom had heard enough.

It bothered him that he didn’t understand their dynamic. A relationship he could understand was one he could manipulate. This wasn’t about jealous, simpering fools, this wasn’t about control or lust.

On his way to the chamber of secrets, he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. Tonight, wasn’t about the changes around school or mundane rules. Tonight, was about research, his beautiful pet had talked to him about something he knew Salazar had researched extensively. It was called a Horcrux, however when he went yesterday the library hadn’t offered any information on the topic. Not even in the restrictive section.

The moment he opened the chamber he knew something was wrong. He could just feel it. Prepared to find the remains of one of his classmates with the basilisk he steeled himself before going through the last pipe.

Only to find nothing.

He looked around and called out to his basilisk, but to no avail. The beast was gone. Upon studying this place more extensively he found that a few of the bars that guarded the entrance to the sea were bent out of place.

It couldn’t. It wouldn’t have. Sure, it had been a little maladjusted, but it had carried out Salazar’s wishes. His legacy. It had been the only thing he had, that connected him to a relative.  
What if it hadn’t left him? No that couldn’t be, even if there was another Parselmouth in school, there was no other heir to succeed him. It must have finally gone mad.

It had been more adamant about his hunger lately. However, he couldn’t just let a basilisk roam free. Never mind all the deaths, they’d have to shut down the school and where would he be then?

 

He hated this. Hated it so much. On his way back to the dorm he felt furious, he had lost his heritage. The chamber was useless without the beast.

As he hurried along, turning the corner he ran straight into someone. He recoiled immediately and stumbled and almost hit the ground, when a hand reached out to him and pulled him back up. In front of him stood Draco Graves, bright blue eyes focused on him, pale long fingers curled around his wrist.

“Thank you, Mr. Graves.” He said through clenched teeth. The other men slowly took a step back and nodded, showing concern. “Are you doing alright, Mr. Riddle?” Tom donned his most charming smile and laughed sheepishly, as if he wasn’t about to burst apart at the seams.

He needed to find Avery, to let off some steam. “I’m doing great. Just hurrying along, so I don’t miss curfew.” He nodded towards the window. Mr. Graves just examined him, seemingly unimpressed. “I know that look, Mr. Riddle. Just know, that if something upsetting happened, there is no shame in talking about it. I can get Professor Slughorn, if you want me to?”

Tom felt a little off, sure, but this was nothing. Nothing in comparison to his first year at Hogwarts and nobody had noticed then.  
He stared for a moment, before he said. “Thank you, if something upsetting happens, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Charming smile in place, he hurried along. Not wanting to feel this transparent, not wanting to feel this confused.

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Back in their chamber Malfoy slowly laid down next to his husband. “You killed the basilisk, didn’t you?” He said less than impressed.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Where did you hide his remains?”

“Underneath the chamber. I had to do some reconstructing. Took me all of yesterday’s lunchbreak to be honest.”

“And the books about Horcruxes?”

“I thought it sensible not to keep a detailed how-to manual on achieving immortality in times of war and despair, Armando agreed.”

“Burke and Borgin still have- “; “Hermione already took care of those.”

“So, we’re not trying to influence him into not doing anything, we’re taking away every tool he has at his disposal.”

“We can’t force him to be someone he isn’t. We can only guide him and if we limit his access to dangerous artefacts and dark creatures, who would blame us, for that extra precaution? This way he has a fighting chance to be something else, even if it’s been brought along by circumstance.”

Draco nodded. “Did you see Abraxas?” He changed the topic, fluidly. “He’s a little stuck up for my taste.” Harry said easily.

“Well, he’s a Malfoy.” Draco agreed, without batting an eyelash.

Harry just stared for a moment, before a huge grin spread across his face. “You know in my first year at Hogwarts there was this pesky little prick, that was also incredibly stuck up… I think he was a Malfoy, too, always threatened everyone with his father.”  
Draco stared at him for a moment before they were fighting for dominance, all tangled up, Harry wasn’t that into the competition, because he was laughing too hard, Draco ended up sat in his lap and pinning his arms above his head. “First of all, we were the same size…”


	3. this one is about consequences and growing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. I had the stomach flu and then I needed the time to catch up on some of my studying and real life stuff.

Professor Graves classes were incredible. There first lesson had been divided in three parts. In the first part they’d talked about the spells, wand movement and intent behind four different curses. ‘Protego’, ‘Expelliarmus’, ‘Stupefy’ and ‘Muffliato’.  
Then he divided them into four different groups. Two would attack and two would defend, each group was only allowed to use the aforementioned four spells on the others, and they had to switch after ten minutes.  
They were encouraged to strategize that much was clear. The Muffliato was for that purpose alone. They were also encouraged to use everything at their disposal, which meant everything in the classroom was fair game.

He wasn’t a huge fan of working together with new people, having been with the same group of people almost for his entire time at Hogwarts. However, he had a persona to protect. Of course, he took the lead and eviscerated his opposing team, he hadn’t however seen Mulciber, who’d taken the opportunity to disarm him. Anna, a Hufflepuff girl, he’d been put together with, got his wand back almost immediately and threw it at him, just in time for Tom to hurl out a Stupefy that left Mulciber frozen.

They didn’t stop to get praised or commented, they persevered, switched from offense to defense and continued on.  
Only after the second round was up did Professor Graves resorted the classroom. They had thrown chairs and used overthrown Tables to duck behind. It had seemed plebeian, but they hadn’t been allowed to use the levitation charm, so they had to make do.

Tom felt exhilarated, if a little angered by Mulciber’s bold move. To everyone’s surprise, the professor didn’t comment on their performance at all. He encouraged each team mate to evaluate his team and point out strengths and weaknesses.

Tom’s team had commended Tom for his excellent leadership. The professor nodded. 

“Alright, I’d like to give 5 points to Mulciber, for taking this exercise seriously and actually fighting against his friend. David is also awarded 5 points, for excellent strategizing with the tables. I’d also like to give 5 points to Anna for her quick thinking and 10 points to Tom for demonstrating an excellent grasp of what leadership can look like. You didn’t try to control everyone’s movement, but you gave direction. I’ve seen a lot of promise in all of you today.” He smiled at every one of them for a brief moment. 

“So, let’s talk teaching style. I’ve prepared three spells for the next lesson. I want every one of you to write down one spell you are interested in.  
It can be because you want to learn it for yourself or because you want to learn more about how it works, the theory behind it.

I will not judge you, if you chose an unforgiveable curse to learn about. There may very well be a time where you are confronted with an enemy who’ll attempt to attack you with one and I don’t see a problem with educating you on what you might face and how you can survive it.

However, don’t bother with the Imperio. We’ll be doing a separate set of lessons on that later this year, at the end of it the headmaster will be casting the Imperio on every one of you and I will be coaching you into throwing it off. 

Everything is already cleared with your parents and the ministry, but if anyone is uncomfortable with that please come to my office, you’ll receive a different project to complete in the time and won’t have to attend the classes.” He smiled encouragingly again, but Tom scoffed inwardly as if anyone would miss out on that kind of opportunity.

He slowly let his gaze wander around the classroom, as if checking to see who wasn’t interested. No one looked averse to the idea. Mulciber looked positively in love. Yeah, the new professor was admittedly brilliant.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

 

Harry had honestly fun with his classes. He even brought in Ron for a few of them. Ron would talk about what he did in his job and how his altercations with Grindlewald followers usually played out and Harry would explain the technicalities behind the different curses and why and how they canceled each other out. His students soaked that up.

 

Slughorn had also attended a few of his classes. Just sitting in and commenting on different student’s performances. He was positively taken with the young man.

Tom was incredibly talented, no surprise there. Draco was doing really well with his mastery and Ron and Hermione were as happy as they could be in a slightly sexist environment.

 

Harry and Draco always went with the students to Hogsmeade. The whole school knew by now that their friends lived there and that they visited them as often as possible. 

 

Well there had only been one incident and that happened in potion class, when a particular poisonous potion had been spilled on Draco by accident and he had to strip out of his layered shirts in front of the class, only to reveal an incredibly fit body, slightly bruised at the hips, with Professor Graves first name tattooed over his heart. 

“Oh my.” Horace had honest to god blushed, while Draco had shrugged it off and borrowed some Hufflepuff’s robe to get to his room to change into some more appropriate clothing.

 

When he came back, they could all hear the voice of Professor Grave’s, booming with laughter promising an unnerved Draco 100 House points.  
Professor Graves could evidently act like a child, too.

And that’s where that scandal ended. 

After three months of classes, Walburga Black and Pollux Lestrange were expelled, due to the clear offense against the newly instated rules.  
They’d used multiple of the curses they’d learned to try and ‘train’ for their defense class by attacking muggleborn students in dark corners.

The two got away with it for exactly three days. After they’d insisted that they were innocent, they were given the option to drink Veritaserum to prove it. They didn’t take it for obvious reasons.  
The families had been beyond angry, Hogwarts had prestige. Having gone there was a sure in a lot of important circles all over the continent.

Harry had sighed. He had to actually sit in on the expulsion, which was just uncomfortable, because he still had little to no poker face.

“My daughter should not be expelled because of some minor incident.” Arcturus Black insisted.

Armando Dippet stared at the man. “We discussed this at the board meeting four months ago. There are no exceptions. We’ve made this clear to everyone at Hogwarts. The spells they are learning in their defense classes, are not to be used outside of supervised classrooms. We are preparing our students for a world that is at war, not for more extensive classroom bullying and discriminating. Miss Black and Mr. Lestrange were made aware of this and they chose to ignore it. This leaves me with no other choice, but to expel them.”

Cassius Lestrange fixated on Harry. “When your classes are so inappropriate that the children cannot even train the material you present to them, maybe you should be let go instead, Mr. Graves.”

Harry fixated on the older man. “You are very brave to suggest that. Be my guest, try and get me fired. Just keep in mind that you’ll have to explain to hundreds of students and their parents that they don’t get a solid defense education, because your child is not capable of following a simple rule.”

Cassius turned bright red as Armando Dippet shook his head. “We are very happy with Professor Graves teaching methods. This is not up for discussion. This is an immediate expulsion.”

Being the entitled purebloods, they were, it took another ten minutes, to make that one stick.  
Harry threw himself on the couch when he entered the flat.

“Rough night?” Draco asked, knowingly from the armchair.  
“The worst.” Harry groaned into the couch.  
“It was a simple expulsion why did it take so long?” Draco asked as he turned the page.  
“Pureblood supremacy bullshit.” Harry murmured.  
“Black and Lestrange, huh?” He put the book away.  
“They kept insisting that they were just trying to train for my classes and that the rule is flawed because they can’t practice sufficiently. Do you think—uff.”

Draco had wandered over to the couch, sat on top of Harry’s back and started massaging his neck and shoulder blades.

“Do I think what?” Draco asked.  
“Fuck right there. Shit you always were great at that.”  
“Do I think?” Draco repeated knowingly. He did give the best back rubs; he was well aware of that.  
“Do you think the other students are doing it too? Practicing outside of the classroom on their peers?”  
“No. You can practice a spell without directing them at a classmate. You didn’t forbid the general use of one, just the application, didn’t you?”  
“Yes, I— Fuck that hurts.” He groaned into the pillow.  
“Hmm. Found it, your muscles are positively knotted with tension, here.”  
“Ouch.”  
“You’ll thank me later.” Draco hummed sadistically, as he kept rubbing the hard muscles, trying to get them to release some of their tension.  
“Shit—anyway they kept on insisting on firing me instead. It was ridic—motherfucker!” Harry cursed.  
“Almost done.” Draco assured.  
“How was your day?” Harry ground out between clenched teeth, desperately needing a distraction from what had turned into the backrub from hell.

“Had to tutor a bunch of third year Ravenclaws. The questions never stopped.”  
“I thought you like being a know-it-ahhh. Merlin don’t press that hard.”  
“It won’t work if I don’t do it with a little pressure.”  
“So, Ravenclaws?”  
“Yes. They were alright. I also had Riddle’s class this morning. He keeps staring.”  
“Do you think he’s into you?”  
“No, he’s staring at you, too and on occasion at Ron.”  
“Do you think he’s into us?”  
He snorted. “No. I think he doesn’t understand us.”

“When did you and Ron meet up?” Harry mumbled into the cushions.  
“Last week, when he came to help you. He delivered Hermione’s research to me. We met in the corridor before the potions class and, well, old habits die hard.”  
“You insulted each other in front of the class?”  
“Yeah and they were bad ones too.”  
Harry laughed quietly into the couch.  
“I was in my element and Ron really put in effort in his insults. By the time we realized we were posturing we started losing it. Ron was wheezing until classes were supposed to start.”  
“Your posturing saved our asses many times.”  
“Yeah I mean with all the eye fucking we’ve been doing, we really ought to give Ron a medal for standing by and menacing helpfully at me.”

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Tom stared at the headmaster. The old man had let the student body know that there had been two expulsions yesterday.  
“They what?” Nott repeated in disbelief. “They were expelled.” Roserie said, annoyed. “But they are purebloods.” Mulciber added, shocked. “They still broke the rules.” Orion Black said, tiredly, as if he had that discussion a hundred times already.  
“No, their mistake was letting themselves get caught.” Tom added.

“I’m not risking that. Do you know what shame I’d bring to my family? I’d be disinherited, my father would literally kill me.” Nott said shocked.  
Avery nodded, pale as ever and Rosier stared at Tom, knowingly before he too affirmed that it wasn’t worth the risk.

Tom stared at them. He didn’t get it. What had changed? They’d known from the beginning that they were breaking rules. Had they been so sure that they were untouchable because of their blood status? Would they stop training with him, now that they realized that actions had consequences?  
He could punish them of course, but if they legitimately feared for their inheritance, his punishments would pale in comparison to what would wait for them at home.  
A disinherited pureblood was a dead one, especially if there was a spare.

Fucking shit, he was losing them. He could torture these boys all he wanted they’d never throw away their future for something he didn’t know he could provide. The moment they stopped seeing him as their leader, he’d be done. He’d lose his position.

 

Tom stared angrily at Professor Graves. For all the good the man had done, this was the one thing he could loathe him for. Taking away his future.

The man’s attention was immediately on him and he focused him. Graves was visibly concerned with his reaction. Had he been that obvious?

Shit. Shit. Shit. He needed to move. He’d go get some fresh air. No matter what, he’d still have Avery.


	4. safe sane and consensual

One month before the summer holidays started, the school nurse approached Draco. She seemed oddly concerned.

“May I talk to you for a moment?” She asked, staring at him with worried eyes.

“Yes of course. Did something happen?”

“No nothing of the sort. I just have a regular patient, who suffers from very distinct injuries.” She blushed. “I tried talking to him about it. But he won’t speak up, keeps claiming it is something different. But I know what it is and where it comes from.” She sighed.

Draco stared at her knowingly. “Which one is it?”

“Avery. I don’t know who’s doing it to him or if it’s consensual, but it’s not done properly. He’s hurt every time. I fear if I confront him again, he won’t reach out to me, when something like this happens again.”

Draco stared at her. “Just out of curiosity, why did you come to me with this concern? Wouldn’t Slughorn be the better choice, as head of house?”

The young woman blushed again. “It seems like he doesn’t know any better. There is not a lot of information out there, for a young man, you know? Especially wizards tend to be more careless with themselves, because they can just go and let themselves get healed.” She struggled with the last bit. 

“I thought Horace might be coming on to strongly. Avery doesn’t exactly like attention and he’s incredibly private. I hoped you could talk to him as someone who is in a healthy same sex relationship?” She seemed to struggle with asking, as if it was an insult or something.

Draco just nodded. He’d wanted to know if he somehow looked like a bottom. His pride wasn’t exactly fragile, but he gave as good as he got and he didn’t want people to assume or talk about his sexuality like that, so he had to make sure.

“I’ll try. But I’d like to talk to the headmaster beforehand, let him know that you expressed concerns and want me to talk to him. I wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression by discussing sex with a minor.” He finished.

The young woman in front of him looked shocked, then she shook her head, “Of course, I’m sorry I didn’t think of it that way. Let’s go right now. I’ll explain everything.” She nodded towards the stairs and Draco sighed, but followed her either way.

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Armando Dippet stared at the blushing medic in front of him. “You want him to what?” He asked again, because he still wasn’t sure he was hearing right.

After retelling everything once again Dippet sighed deeply. “I’d rather have classes on it. Safe, sane and consensual, you know the drill. But… with all the pureblood families and the prudish attitude towards everything related to the fairer sex, we can’t do that.” He shook his head. 

“How often does he come to you with his… injuries?” He finally asked.

“Two times a week. Since the beginning of the year. He came around before, too, but it wasn’t nearly as regular.” She said again, looking unhappy.

“Well someone has to talk to him and if it can’t be you and Mr. Graves is amicable to the idea, I would be most thankful if he handled the situation.” He finally said. “Rest assured that you have my complete trust.”

Draco nodded. “My only concern is that it’s not consensual.” He said. “I don’t know if I can convince him to speak up.”

“You shouldn’t. if you get the feeling that it isn’t, come to me, I’ll handle it.” Armando finally said.

“Very well.”

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

He held Avery back after class. Slughorn had also been informed and had surprisingly agreed that Draco should handle it, he’d also given him his office for this purpose.  
Draco assumed, that this wasn’t something the older potions master particularly liked to discuss, but in the end, it didn’t matter to Slughorn either way. His role was to educate.

Avery sat in front of him with calculating eyes. He wasn’t small or looked weak by any means. He was also quite intelligent, but Draco wasn’t easily fooled by appearance.

“So, this is going to be an uncomfortable situation for us both. First let me preface this by saying that the medic, was obligated to inform someone about your injuries. They’ve been too consistent, for her to ignore. However, just because it’s her job to take care of you, doesn’t mean that you can’t continue to expect help from her. She wants you to know that. So, if you’re hurt again, you should still visit her, okay?”

Avery’s eyes widened and he turned pale as a sheet. 

Well, shit.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked tiredly, mainly because he wanted some tea.

Avery nodded and he sighed. After a while Avery said. “I’ll keep going to her if it happens again.”

Draco nodded. “That’s good.”

Avery stared at his cup of tea and the array of biscuits. 

“You know that it’s not supposed to hurt or injure you, right?” Draco finally asked, because how the fuck do you start something like this.

Avery stared at him as if he just said wheels were supposed to be square shaped. So that would be a no.

Draco watched him for a second. “Are you doing it against your will?”

Avery looked affronted. “No.” He said as vehement as he could.

“Well that makes this easier. So, do you think your partner will take the time to prep you or do you think you’ll have to do it yourself?”

“Prep?”

“Get yourself ready. So that you don’t rip or tear.”

“… I’d rather do it myself.” 

“Ok. But try to teach him how to do it, too. It’s important.”

Avery stared at him doubtfully and Draco sighed and began to explain. It wasn’t as awkward as he’d thought it would be. What he was telling Avery was removed from anything romantically sexual, to be exact. It was just about technicalities and safety. After ten minutes the basic information was delivered, and Avery looked shocked.

Draco finished their conversation by saying that he could ask the nurse, him or even Slughorn, anything. He didn’t need to approach him about this if Avery was more comfortable with someone else. What was important was, that Avery knew he’d be able to get help, if he needed it.

He felt weird about it, but these kids truly didn’t have the information that was so easily supplied in the future. Or the right intuition, for that matter. 

The boy in front of him had to be a special kind of crazy if he kept doing it even if it left him seriously injured. 

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Tom stared at Avery. “You what?”

“I prepped myself.”

Tom laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“I fingered myself and washed myself and put some lubricant, so you won’t tear me apart when you fuck me.”

Tom stared at him dubiously. “Where did you get this information?” He wasn’t panicked. He didn’t particularly care if people knew that he fucked Avery. It would be better if they didn’t know, but it wasn’t like he was very secretive or careful about it.

“Had to talk to someone about it, because of my injuries.”

“Who was it?”

“Mr. Graves.” Avery said, embarrassed. “Do you want to try it out like this or not?”

Tom stared at him, before he roughly shoved him against the wall. 

What followed was the most intense sex either of them had ever had. Avery came for the first time doing it this way and Tom followed quickly after. 

They both still panted heavily after they were done.

“That was…” Avery started.

“Yes.” Tom agreed. “Show me how you prepped yourself. Next time I’ll do it.”

They could be rougher, than before, even, without procuring serious pain from either. Dry skin wasn’t exactly pleasant to rub up against. 

He could still dominate Avery and he found that he enjoyed the mutual pleasure much more than the muted more violent act they shared before.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Draco stared at Harry, who stared at the Slytherin table in disbelieve.

There sat a perfectly relaxed Tom Riddle. 

His tie was loosened his sweater on the bench beside him, the arms of his shirt were folded up. To Harry’s defense everyone was staring. No one had ever seen Tom so informal, before.  
The young man sat and talked to Avery, who looked a lot more confident and overall happy than usual.

“Good sex cures everything.” Draco whispered knowingly.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Imagine if you never had good sex your entire life. You’d be weird, too.”

“What the fuck?” Harry said again.

Draco laughed and Harry stared at him. “I think you just saved the world.”

Draco just laughed harder. 

It was a good day.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

A few days before Halloween a beautiful young woman with a stern expression, walked down the great hall during dinner.  
She had long brown curls, chocolate colored eyes and walked with an effortless authority, few people held.

“Hermione?” Harry was immediately up and walked towards her, she met him halfway and shook her head at him.

“It’s Ron. He’s been ambushed, some of his colleagues were in on it, he kept the connection going for as long as he could.” She said heatedly.

“Where was he when the connection cut off?” Harry asked, already conjuring his heavy coat and a packed bag.

“Luxemburg. Do you remember what he told you about the civil war? Grindlewald has pushed through the last defenses. Ron was supposed to support and evacuate.”

“He’s still alive.” Harry reassured her. “I can feel it.”  
She nodded. “That’s why I came to get you.”

Draco hurried into the hall with a guilty looking third year, both of them had their hair slightly singed. When he saw them standing there, he summoned his long leather coat, the one with the protective charms ingrained in it. “Where to?” He asked.  
“Luxemburg.” Harry answered grimly.  
“We’ll get him back.” Draco reassured.

“We will.” Harry and Hermione both said with conviction.

“Armando, do we have permission to use our emergency portkey to get out of Hogwarts?”

“Of course, my boy. Come home safe.”

They nodded and Hermione smiled tightly, before she pulled out her necklace and spoke calmly into the silence of the hall. “I carry your heart, I carry it in mine.” And the three of them vanished.

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Harry and Draco Graves were gone for two weeks. Two weeks in which Merrythought had come back and brought her horrendously boring curriculum with her. Two weeks in which a lot of students realized for the first time that it would matter to them if the Graves didn’t come back.

 

When they showed back up in the middle of the great hall, during breakfast no less, they had a groaning Ron, an unnerved Hermione, a suspiciously silent Harry and a positively murderous looking Draco with them.

Harry stood next to Draco with his arm in a sling and a new scar on his face and stared at Ron, who Draco carried, princess style.

Hermione still looked like a force to be reckoned with, even in her dirty, slightly ripped skirt and her bloodied shirt.

Ron was still out of it but seemed like he’d taken the worst of it. The young man looked like a giant bruise. Draco presented himself impeccable.  
Not a hair out of order, not even a wrinkle in his shirt.

He smiled towards the teacher’s table. ‘Sorry, we didn’t realize, it would take so long. No one could have guessed that Mr. Davies actually managed to get himself kidnapped.”

Ron groaned in his arms. “Fuck off, Draco.”

Draco stared down at him. “You know I could just let you go, right? Just like that? Nothing’s stopping me. I’ll just reset your bones afterwards.”

Hermione stepped up to both of them. “Stop bickering or I’ll sick Harry on you.” She promised darkly.

Harry smiled sadistically.

“Don’t. Please. Keep the silencing charm going for a little longer.” Ron murmured.

“Do it, I dare you, but if he’s telling me that my food work is sloppy one more time, he’ll be moving in with you two...”

Harry laughed silently and flipped him off with his good hand. Hermione grabbed him by the ear and gestured for Draco to come with her, while she quickly nodded towards the head table.

“Sorry for the commotion. We’ll be on our way.”


	5. changes all around

That summer was the best summer of Tom’s short life. He didn’t have to fear nothing. Hogsmeade was peaceful to a fault and to his surprise, Avery used the flo network to regularly to visit him.

His room was bright and nice, the meals were good and the students that had chosen to stay behind were so relieved that they didn’t have to go back, that they didn’t even begin to think about houses. They all had lived through fear and enough adult experiences that the silly bickering over Hogwarts house pride seemed ridiculous.

So, they formed study groups, instead. These people served Tom little to no purpose, but he felt welcomed by them and appreciated them either way.

The seriousness of the situation and the relief was tangible in the air.

And there was Avery. Avery, who brought him books on pureblood culture and etiquette. He talked to him about the contacts his father had in the ministry and that he would ask him to use them for Tom, too, when the time came.

Tom knew he wasn’t in love or anything, he knew it, because it wasn’t possible for him, but he wasn’t about to let Avery go, either. The other man’s happiness was contagious. He was easily pleased by small gestures of affection they shared in private and didn’t need them in public.

Physical contact was a curious thing. He had despised it all his life and now, now he craved it. Looked forward to Avery’s visits. Made sure everything was prepared impeccably before the other man even entered his room.

He didn’t see Avery as his equal. Not really, but where Tom was ambitious, Avery was cunning. He was a master at using everything at his disposal to their advantage. But more than anything else, Avery was generous, and he shared in ways that Tom could accept.

He’d bring extravagant food, that was horrendously expensive and insisted it was because he himself wanted to eat it, but ended up, not taking more than a few pieces of it.  
He obviously wanted to share with Tom, but knew the other man despised everything that made him feel inferior.

So, he found ways around that. He brought him clothes that were made of the finest material, because he wanted Tom to accompany him to a formal event and left them with the other man. He’d look good in them, it would help him establish connections, but it was his decision. He didn’t need to wear them. Avery would stand by his side either way.  
Needless to say, he’d worn them.

The list went on and on. Tom had never tried or experienced such a lavish life style, before and he wanted it for himself. Not just out of spite or some wild inferior complex, no, he wanted it, so that he could truly relish in it.

Avery was good for that. He was good for a lot of things. Tom furrowed his brows. He didn’t see Avery as someone he loved, but he wasn’t a minion anymore either.

Was he a friend? He didn’t know.

 

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

Sixth year started with the most amazing DADA classes yet.

Tom couldn’t quite believe that this was a school assignment. He stared at the varying terrains and the puppets along the way of the obstacle course.

The rules were easy. They could only use ‘Petrificus Totalus’, ‘Protego’, and ‘Expelliamus’. Those three were it.

The puppets could only cast Stupefy and were positioned on either side of the Parkour. The students had to run through it and make it to the other end. First alone, then in groups of three.

Professor Graves took the lead and showed them how it was done. He dodged and jumped and ran across the ever-changing terrain effortlessly. He climbed easily over the hurdles and hit every single puppet along the way. When he finished five minutes later, the man wasn’t even out of breath.

Then they started.

Not one student made it to the middle on their own. Not even Tom. He would have been able to finish the parkour, if he could have used every spell at his disposal, but that was the difficulty, he supposed. Just three spells.

What surprised everyone, was, that in teams of three they could do it. Easily.

It was one of the most interesting team building exercises they’d ever had.

At the end of it, Tom stared at the Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor he had been paired with. They had defended him. He didn’t know anything about their blood status or their heritage. He knew they all had been pissed off, when they’d realized how subpar their abilities were in comparison to their teacher’s.

Pride was a powerful motivator, he realized. Coming from Slytherin he already knew that, but he hadn’t realized that it could bring people together like this. Fear had been his main instrument.

He sighed. He had a lot to think about.

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

“What do you mean he is immune?” Professor Slughorn asked once again. Shocked.

“He’s immune. Harry has always been like that. We learned how to defend against the imperious by our teacher casting the curse on us. Harry didn’t listen, to him. He fought the command from the beginning. Same with occlumency and Veritaserum.” Draco shrugged.

“He threw the imperious of. On his first attempt?”

“Yeah. The professor asked him to dance on the table, Harry struggled so hard against it that he stopped and crashed into the table.”

Horace had turned slightly pale. “That is impossible.”

Draco laughed. “Seems like it, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Should we call him in?”

“Yes, that would be most curious.”

Moments later Professor Graves turned in, smiling at Draco, nodding at Horace. “So, what do you want me to drink this time?” He asked carefully eyeing Draco suspiciously.

“Just Veritaserum.”

Harry stared at him. “The last time you said that, I couldn’t sleep for three days.”

Draco stared at him. “The last time you downed the whole vial, when a sip would have been enough.”

“Yeah, but was it Veritaserum?”

“Maybe.” Draco said with a shrug.

The two Graves stared at each other.

“Take a sip of it first.” Harry finally said grinning widely at Draco. “To make sure, it’s not been tempered with.”

Draco rolled his eyes and took a sip of the Veritaserum.

Graves downed the rest of the phial and grinned at his husband, who’s eyes were slightly glazed over, while Harry’s were bright and clear.

He smiled, slow and dangerous. “Time to clear a few things up.”

Horace stared at him. “How are you unaffected?”

He couldn’t very well explain that Snape had doused him with the stuff so often during Umbridge’s reign, that he’d build up an immunity, because that was supposed to be impossible, also because he didn’t want to give anyone any ideas. He could have died from the whole ordeal. Madam Pomfrey had theorized that the phoenix tear had given his immune system an extra boost, that had allowed him to survive the year and build up an immunity.

“No idea.” He shrugged, instead.

“Can I ask Draco a few questions, to ascertain that he is indeed under the influence?”

Horace stared at the other man in disbelieve and nodded.

“So, Draco, light of my life, did you shave my hair on purpose, the summer we moved in together?” He asked smiling.

“Yes.”

He laughed. “I knew it.”

“I put three bottles of Sleakeazy's hair potion in it and it still looked like a mess. I had to vent somehow.” Malfoy explained, helpfully.

Harry nodded. “Understandably.”

He paused and then grinned again.

“So, did you actually plan for Hermione to break your nose, back in third year?”

Draco shook his head. “No. It was supposed to be a slap in the face, not a fist to the nose. She surprised us all with that one.”

Harry laughed.

“Seems legit.” He said with a nod to Horace. “I’ll take him with me, so that no one can ask anything inappropriate.” He smiled.

Horace nodded. “That would be for the best.”

 

___________________________________o.O.o___________________________________

 

A few weeks into the new school year Avery was attacked. Brutally.

Tom heard about it at dinner. He immediately felt hot rage curse through him. How dare they?  
He had to find out who they were, and he had to teach them a lesson. Promptly.

On his way to the infirmary he was stopped by Dumbledore.

“Ah Tom, you are exactly who I was looking for.”

Tom bit down his rage and put on his mask. “What can I do for you, professor?”

“I’d like to—” He was interrupted by a hurried looking professor Graves who walked briskly towards them, eyes focused on Tom.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow Tom for a moment.” He said with a tight smile.

“Professor Graves! What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s Avery. His condition has worsened, and he’s asked to see Tom. We don’t have much time. He might get better yet, but currently it doesn’t look good for him and it’s only right to let him say goodbye to the people he loved.”

Tom felt an ice-cold shiver run down his back. “What happened?” He asked hoarsely.

“His father wanted to arrange a marriage for him, he denied him. It didn’t go over well.”  
Dumbledore looked surprised. “His own father?”

“Of course, his own father!” Graves countered bitterly. “Do you honestly think a student could have cast those curses, within Hogwarts, without us knowing? I have alerts in place for this kind of thing!” Graves shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to go. Come on, Tom.” He nodded towards the fireplace and Tom hurried after him.

Leaving a dumbstruck Dumbledore behind.

Avery looked horrible. Pale and bruised and cut up as he was, he looked like he was already dead.  
Tom didn’t know what to feel, other than a need, an impulse, a tension that he wanted to feel something other than shock.

If he’d ever loved anyone in his life, the way you were supposed to love someone, it was Avery, but even now, with the other man practically on his death bed, he just couldn’t say it, discern it, feel it?

He couldn’t make the supposed emotion tangible.

He cared, he didn’t want the other man to suffer, but he felt like those emotions weren’t worth much in contrast to the crushing despair he probably should be feeling but wasn’t.

Avery smiled at him and Tom for the first time since his early childhood, wanted to cry. He felt inadequate.

Then professor Graves hand was on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“Avery.” Tom said sadly, touching the other man’s bandaged hand. “I’m sorry this happened to you.” He squeezed it lightly, carefully.

Avery stared at him and his hand and smiled and to Tom’s shock there were actual tears running down both of their faces.

They didn’t talk to each other. Just held hands and carefully watched each other, as if they were taking in every detail about their appearances, committing them to memory.

When the nurses came to pick him up for surgery, Tom started to shake slightly. Professor Graves hand never left his shoulder. Steering him towards one of the sitting booths, asking a staff member to get him a hot chocolate.

Waiting. After a while the older man spoke. “He’s been arrested.”

“He’s a pureblood. He has connections. He’ll get away with a slap on the wrist.” Tom said bitterly.

“He won’t.” Graves said and something about the way he said it made Tom look up and what he saw was pure unadulterated fury.

“The curses he used on Avery weren’t meant to kill him. They were meant to torture, and he used them all. Not just the most, let’s say prominent? unforgiveable one. The thing about dark curses is, that they leave a trace, not in the victim, but in the caster. They taint the soul and the body. That man had every right to disinherit his heir. He had no right to torture him using magic that has long been prohibited. He’s on his way to Azkaban as we speak.”

Tom stared at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“So that you know you don’t need to bother with trying to kill him.” Graves said easily, while Tom almost flinched, but before the younger man could ask for an explanation, he continued.

“Emotions are really complicated, Tom. Some people believe that love is this overpowering emotion that is supposed to drown everything else out, because they feel it that way. Other people feel it in a much more contained way, subtler in its nuances. And then there are some that just feel the intensity of it. It’s not happy, it’s not always there, it just makes everything else more intense. Happiness, lust, grief, anger, jealousy, hate they can all be expressed in the name of love. Wanting to kill the one, who hurt Avery is just another form of it.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “It’s not perverse or dark or something to be afraid of. It’s passion. I myself am not one for flowers and epic love declarations, but I know that I’d kill anyone who did this to Draco in a heartbeat and you know what Tom?” He asked, staring at the younger man. “I’d make it slow.” He paused again as if struggling with himself.

Tom just stared. “I don’t know if I can feel love.” He finally said.

Harry looked actually surprised at that. “What makes you think that?”

“I was conceived under a love potion.”

Harry blinked for a moment, before he shook his head. “People actually believe that?”

Tom nodded.

“It’s not true, Tom. It’s really not. Love isn’t tangible, you can’t inherit it or lose it. It expresses itself in everything. The things you like, the things that give you joy, the things you put effort in, your motivation. No one is born incapable of love. It’s hard to find it and feel it, especially if you’ve never experienced it.”

Tom watched him. “Is it possible to learn how to love?” He finally asked, blushing slightly, ashamed.

Graves paused for a moment. “I didn’t grow up in what one would call, a loving home, so learning what it meant took a lot of time for me. I realized that I loved Draco, when I kept going out of my way to do things for him. Nothing romantic. Just little gestures, to make him happy. After a while I noticed that I’d never do these things for anyone else and that had to mean something, you know?”

“I think so.” Tom answered measured, eyes wide, honestly surprised that his teacher would open up and comfort him this way.

“Do you want to know what everyone struggles with? Even the people that wear their hearts on their sleeve?”

Tom nodded, mutely. Feeling a bit too raw to talk.

“Forgiveness.”

“I can imagine that that’s hard.”

“It takes a whole fuck ton of love to forgive, Tom. Most people aren’t able to truly do it. To let it go. And those people weren’t all born under a love potion either, they just have a hard time learning it.”

They sat together for a long time. Tom, maybe for the first time in his life, felt truly connected to, understood, and respected by an adult in his life.

“He’ll be fine.” Tom murmured.

“I think so, too. He looked a lot better, already. I just wanted him to be able to see you.”

“Thank you.”

Tom had a lot to think about once again, but it would have to wait. For now, his thoughts were focused on Avery.

**Author's Note:**

> Please Review! Knowing you took the time to tell me what you think about this, means a lot to me and is insanely motivating! :D


End file.
